


we're (definitely) gonna get there

by TheLamestFad



Series: OtaYuri Week [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Day Seven: Fantasy, Day Six: Rivalry, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov are Yuri Plisetsky's Parents, M/M, Not Beta Read, OtaYuri Week 2017, Pining, Rated T for Yuri's Potty Mouth, Social Media, day five: fears, especially at the end, eventually, i feel like i use that tag a lot, ish, it's always true though, lots of introspection, technically haha, victor and yuuri just want their son to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLamestFad/pseuds/TheLamestFad
Summary: Getting back to the topic at hand, Yuri can't help but ask, “S-so, you think Otabek…likesme?” He curses internally at the stutter in his voice.Yuuri is giving him that odd look again.“Well of course he does. But wouldn't you know that better than me? After all, you two are together, aren't you?”~~~In which no, they are not, but Yuridesperatelywishes they were.





	1. fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i'm finally posting my day five of otayuri week!  
> ahaha, i'm only a little late, right?  
> this is going to be a chapter story, my first ever (gasp)  
> anyways, i hope you enjoy this angsty beginning :'D

It has been three months, approximately, since the Grand Prix final and Yuri’s gold medal winning performance, and consequently, three months since he had become friends with one Otabek Altin. Incidentally, it’s also been three months since Katsudon had moved in with Viktor, changing his home rink to St Petersburg and unofficially ruining Yuri’s life, but that’s neither here nor there.

Yuri feels that in the three months they've been talking, he’s gotten to know Otabek fairly well, and he might also maybe have developed a teensy tiny barely there so small you have to squint crush on the guy. It's not _his_ fault, he defends himself against imaginary naysayers. It's just that he’s practically perfect with his leather jacket and motorcycle, dark hair and dark eyes, and just yesterday he’d let slip to Yuri that he DJs in his spare time. DJs! It's like he couldn't be anymore made out of Yuri’s fantasies if he tried.

And besides, Yuri has it in pretty good authority that Otabek also likes him back. Or well, at least, _he_ thinks Otabek likes him back, and there was this one conversation he’d had with Katsudon a few days ago that also makes him feel pretty confident with his analysis that went something like this:

 _It’s unofficial break time at the rink, Yakov stepping outside to answer a phone call, so the skaters have scattered to get a few minutes to themselves before he comes back and screams himself hoarse at them all. Yuri, in usual fashion, has taken out his phone and snapchats Otabek, a picture of himself leaning against the rink wall with a couple of his rink mates in the background chatting with the caption:_ “When the coach is away the skaters will play” _because it sounds rebellious and edgy._

_He’s not expecting an answer; even though Yuri is generally a very hard worker that takes his career very seriously, he’s still a teenager prone to wanting to slack off when he can. Otabek on the other hand, has laser focus when it comes to practice, and won't so much as even turn his phone on for the day until he’s already at home again for the night, so Yuri is honestly very surprised when his phone buzzes almost immediately with a response from Otabek._

_The picture is of Otabek’s legs resting on his coffee table, an ace bandage wrapped around his left ankle with the caption,_ “Try not to get in trouble.”

 _Yuri snaps back a picture of himself looking concerned and the message,_ “u ok??”

 _He gets another immediate response, though Yuri supposes if Otabek is stuck at home it makes a lot more sense. The picture this time is of Otabek’s top half, revealing the old t-shirt he’s wearing and how messy his hair is when he doesn't brush it and Yuri finds himself feeling incredibly fond of this glimpse of Otabek when he hasn't bothered to put himself together. Otabek is giving him a thumbs up, and the caption says,_ “Just a precaution.”

 _Yuri finds himself letting out a quick breath of relief, then pouts at his camera, commenting,_ “don’t scare me like that, asshole”.

_He sees skates approaching out of the corner of his eye as he stares at his phone, waiting for Otabek’s response, but he recognizes them as the pig’s so he doesn't bother looking up. Yuuri takes a seat on the bench next to him, totally without asking, and he’s about to turn and yell but his phone buzzes again and Otabek definitely takes precedence over Katsudon, so he opens the snap and almost dies._

_Otabek is smiling at the camera, that little half smirk he gives whenever he thinks he’s being clever or funny that drives Yuri up the wall in the best way possible. The caption just reads,_ “Sorry.” _Yuri is distinctly aware that he’s not breathing and if it weren't literally the creepiest thing he could possibly do he would screenshot the fuck out of that stupid picture. He completely forgets about the pig, trying to burn the photo into his mind before it disappears._

_“Yurio, are you okay?” Katsudon asks, placing a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. Yuri nearly jumps out of his skin, gasping in a breath now that he’s no longer in his Otabek-induced trance._

_“I’m fine,” he spits, wrenching his shoulder out of Katsuki’s hand. “What do you want?”_

_“Nothing,” the pig assures, raising his hands in a placating manner. “Just… I've never seen you look so happy when you’re on your phone. Are you talking to Otabek?”_

_Yuri splutters, unsure of what to yell at the pig for first; his assumption about Otabek (no matter how true) or his audacity to come over and question him about it. Just when he’s coming up with a really scathing retort, Katsuki speaks again._

_“I think it’s really great that you’re giving him a chance,” Yuuri says with a smile. “I think you've been happier since you started opening up to Otabek and I could tell that he really likes you, Yurio--”_

_“Wait wait wait,” Yuri says, holding up a hand to Katsudon’s face. “What do you mean, he really likes me?”_

_Yuuri gives him an odd look, but begins to elaborate._

_“Just that when you guys hung out together at the banquet, he could barely keep his eyes off you. It reminded me of the way Viktor used to look at me, you know, before we…” and Katsudon trails off blushing, and Yuri has to fight the urge to puke._

_Getting back to the topic at hand, Yuri can't help but ask, “S-so, you think Otabek…_ likes _me?” He curses internally at the stutter in his voice._

_Yuuri is giving him that odd look again._

_“Well of course he does. But wouldn't you know that better than me? After all, you two are together, aren't you?”_

_“WHAT?” Yuri shrieks, jumping to his feet as Katsudon flinches, startled by Yuri’s sudden yell. “N-no! We’re just friends!”_

_Yuuri looks up at him with wide, compassionate eyes._

_“Oh, Yurio, I'm sorry. I didn't realize…” he trails off, biting his lip and looking more uncomfortable in front of him than Yuri’s seen in what feels like ages._

_Yuri is quiet for a minute, taking his seat next to Katsudon again before he mutters, just loud enough for the other to hear, “So you really think he likes me?”_

_Katsudon laughs, “Yurio, I just told you I thought you were already dating. Of course I think he likes you.”_

_Yakov chooses that moment to stomp back into the rink, so Yuri is saved from trying to think up a response that_ isn’t _about how big a crush he has on Otabek, and he and the pig stand and walk back over to the rink. Just before they’re about to skate in off in opposite directions though, Yuuri taps him on the shoulder._

_“I’ll be rooting for you, Yurio,” he says with a smile, and skates away before Yuri can think of a suitably catty response to yell._

So yeah, Yuri feels understandably justified in thinking that Otabek likes him. All he has to do now is try to find the proper way to bring it up to Otabek himself, and he’ll be all set. It feels wrong to be doing that kind of thing over the internet, but it's not like they’re going to be seeing each other any time soon, and Yuri would rather have all the talking squared away so that the next time they _do_ see each other, they can get right into the good stuff, like kissing.

Unfortunately for Yuri and his fantasies however, no one thought to inform Otabek of these plans.

Yuri didn't see it as much of an issue at first; he was still drafting and redrafting versions of his confession in his head, trying to come up with the perfect wording without sounding lame like Katsudon, or worse, _mushy_ like Viktor. For some reason though, Yuri still feels horribly betrayed when Otabek manages to throw him for a complete loop a few days later.

“You have tomorrow off?” Yuri asks incredulously, looking up from where he’s painting his toenails a glittery black (for a bet lost to Mila) to stare at the computer screen where Otabek’s face is staring back. “You never take a day off. What’s up?”

Later, Yuri will swear he imagined it in the face of the Big Reveal, but Otabek looks distinctly uncomfortable before he answers, running his fingers through his hair distractedly.

“My girlfriend’s flying in from Astana tomorrow. I have to pick her up from the airport.”

_Girlfriend._

The word hits Yuri like a freight train, knocking the air out of his lungs and causing his ears to ring unpleasantly as the word echoes through his brain.

_Otabek has a fucking girlfriend._

“You have a fucking girlfriend?!” he hears himself say, the words sounding a bit thin to his own ears, merely a shade of his normal tones.

Otabek nods, looking a bit miserable.

“We started dating in our last year of high school. After we graduated, I decided to concentrate completely on figure skating and she decided to go to college in Astana. I haven't seen her in months…” he trails off, looking at Yuri with pleading eyes.

“Oh,” Yuri responds, because what else can he say? He’s been nursing a ridiculously huge crush on his best friend, who, as it turns out, has some girlfriend that lives in a different city that he’s been dating for more than a year. He’s aware in some part of his mind that he’s probably being a bad friend by not asking more about her, but his tongue feels like lead in his mouth and his heart is throbbing in his chest and he can’t think of anything else to say.

He tries to go back to painting his toe nails, shooting for looking as casual as possible after the literal bomb he’s been dropped - plus, they need another coat or else they’ll look awful - but his eyes are swimming and he’s finding it much harder to keep his hand steady than it was before.

“Yuri,” Otabek says, his voice sounding strained in a way that Yuri can’t quite put his finger on, so he looks back over to his computer screen. Otabek is frowning, actually straight up frowning back at him, and Yuri feels his own eyebrows lower in response, feeling concern rise in him at Otabek’s obvious displeasure. Otabek licks his lips and starts again, face not quite so severe, “Yuri, I…”

“Yeah?” Yuri says a little breathlessly. The way Otabek’s looking at him is intense, and he has to forcefully remind himself that his friend is taken. _Hah, of all the fucking luck…_ he can’t help thinking wryly.

But Otabek just shakes his head after a moment and mutters out a, “Nothing,” so even though Yuri is disappointed, he lets it go. He flounders for something else to say, Otabek’s odd behavior enough of a distraction that Yuri’s managed to kick start his brain again, but before he can say anything else, Otabek is speaking again.

“I should go,” he says, staring off to the left of camera, very obviously not making eye contact with Yuri. “I have to get up early tomorrow to get to the airport. Goodnight, Yuri.”

And Otabek is gone before Yuri can respond.

“...Night, Beka,” he says to the empty Skype window, curling his knees up to his chest and looking down at his half-done nails. They start swimming in his vision again, and Mila never said they had to look _good_ , they just had to be painted, so he clenches his trembling fingers into fists and decides that they’re as good as they’re going to get.

The next morning when he shows up early to the rink with swollen, bloodshot eyes and an even worse attitude than usual, no one looks at him twice for fear of retribution. Normally when he’s angry, he can channel that anger into his skating, use it as fuel to keep going stronger than ever, but in the shallow crevices between the waves of anger there’s a deep sadness that threatens to overwhelm him if he doesn’t keep the rage hot and heavy on top. Add that to the fact that he barely slept last night, a bone deep exhaustion has settled over him by the time Yakov calls him for a break, shaking his head as Yuri skates over, panting.

He slips on his skate guards and collapses onto the bench, taking the water bottle someone hands him and pressing it to his red eyes, which have been beating in tempo with his heart for the past hour.

“You know, water is generally better ingested through the mouth than the eyes,” Mila’s voice comes from next to him, and she gently lifts the bottle from his face, unscrews the top, and dampens a face cloth from her bag with it. Then she hands the open bottle to Yuri, motions for him to lean his head back, and lays the damp cloth across his eyes, the cool water even more soothing out of the bottle.

“Drink that,” she commands, giving the hand with the bottle in it a nudge, and Yuri complies, sipping at the bottle because he’s just too fucking tired to argue. “Yakov’s giving you a little extra time to get your head together, so finish that bottle if you can. Crying really dehydrates you, and it’s pretty obvious that you didn’t sleep last night, so you should try to replenish as much of your water as you can.”

He hears her stand, though she seems to hesitate a bit.

“I need to get back out there, but Yuri,” she pauses again. “Just, if you need anyone to talk to, you know I’m here, right?”

“Yeah,” he replies, voice scratchy from his emotional night. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah. Thanks, granny. I know,” he mumbles the last part, half hoping she doesn’t hear it. Eventually he hears her walk away without further comment, so if she _did_ , she chose the smartest option; pretend it didn’t happen.

He sits alone on the bench for a while, listening to the sounds of skates on the ice, and Yakov yelling and the occasional grunts of frustration or cheers of success that permeate through the rink. Normally he would be pissed at this baby treatment they’re forcing him through, but his legs turned to jelly the second he sat down and now that he has more than a minute with his own thoughts, the tidbits from his conversation with Otabek last night come crawling back to the front of his brain, echoing around without permission the same way they did every time he tried to close his eyes to get some sleep.

_My girlfriend’s flying in from Astana tomorrow._

_We started dating in our last year of high school._

_I haven't seen her in months._

_I should go. I have to get up early tomorrow..._

And repeat. Again and again and again and again until Yuri couldn't take it anymore. He had gotten out of bed at three thirty that morning after laying there for hours and gone for an hour long run, gotten back and taken a shower, then collapsed back on his bed around five. He’d stared up at the ceiling until five thirty when he’d run out of patience, deeming it close enough to six that he didn't care anymore, and made himself a quick breakfast. He was out of the house before five forty, never mind the fact that he generally wasn't even out of bed yet.

And now he finds himself here, sitting by the rink with a damp towel over his eyes, sipping at some water like a fucking invalid, and allowing it to happen just because he’s feeling sorry for himself. Well, that’s bullshit, he decides, and sits up, letting Mila’s face cloth fall into his lap as he chugs the rest of the water that she gave him. His eyes throb once at the sudden return of the bright lights overhead, but he blinks them a few times to get the moisture out of them from the towel and eventually they stop.

He walks back over to the side of the rink where Yakov is standing, and the man gives him a once over, taking in the empty water bottle he’d left by the bench and his eyes, which he can already tell are far less swollen than they were thanks to Mila’s treatment, and nods once, motioning for Yuri to take his place back on the ice. He manages to go the rest of practice like normal, feeling a little bit more like himself as he sweats through his problems on the ice. He sometimes catches Mila or Yuuri or Viktor shooting him worried looks when they have a minute to spare, but he mostly ignores them, intent on proving he’s fine by acting as normally as possible.

He stays after everyone leaves for the day, because he still hasn't been able to do a complete run through of his short program and on a normal day, Yuri would stay all night if that’s what it took before he got it right. As it is, he can't help but eye the exit a bit longingly as Katsudon calls out his and Viktor’s goodbyes, the doors slamming shut behind them as they make their way home for the night. Yuri takes a deep breath and decides he should give his program at least one more run through before he calls it a night; he shouldn't slack today just because Otabek is.

The thought stings like a fresh wound, and all of the little speculations he had been trying to push away all day about Otabek hanging out with his girlfriend come flooding into his mind as he queues up his music; the reunion in the airport where they see each other for the first time in months and she runs into his arms and he twirls her around, smiling before he leans down and kisses her…

...Her clinging tightly to him as they get on his motorcycle, weaving through the streets of Almaty that they grew up on together, laughing with each other every time they pass a particular landmark they share memories of…

…Him taking her out to a romantic dinner her first night back in town, before they even go to visit her family, because they think she’s getting back in tomorrow so she can spend the night at his apartment without them knowing…

Yuri’s skate skids across the ice at that last thought, the jump he attempted horribly flubbed from shaky beginning to disastrous ending. He hits the ice hard, breath knocked out of him as he continues to slide across the ice, his momentum carrying him until he hits the wall on the opposite side of the rink, and he swears he can already feel his bruises forming. He decides to let out a pathetic sounding groan, simply because he’s alone and in pain, when there’s a clatter by the door.

“Yurio! Oh my god, are you okay?!”

And of fucking course it’s Katsudon. Why he’s back at the rink when he’d already left for the evening with his disgustingly lovey dovey fiancé, Yuri can't even begin to fathom, but _of fucking course_ it’s Katsudon.

He pushes himself back to his feet, getting his head above the wall just in time to see Katsudon attempting to speed tie his skates so he can get on the ice to check on Yuri. His phone is open next to him on the bench, emergency numbers typed in, but not connected, as though he’d thought about it but then realized that if there wasn't actually anything seriously wrong, Yuri would be pissed that he’d called an ambulance before checking.

It seems that you can teach an old pig new tricks.

“Oi, Katsudon,” he calls, and Yuuri’s head jerks up so fast that Yuri feels himself wince in commiseration. “I'm fine, no need to shit yourself or anything.”

“Yurio!” He cries in relief, actual big fat tears that start pouring out of his eyes and running down his cheeks. Yuri freezes, unsure what to do now that the pig has started leaking. “Oh, god Yurio, I was so scared when I saw you hit the ice like that! And then you didn't get up or anything, you just laid there moaning and I thought something serious had happened! Oh, I'm so glad you're okay though!”

Katsudon buries his face in his hands as he starts sniffling and shaking, clearly trying to calm himself down now that the threat of injury has passed. Yuri himself feels a tiny bit guilty; he wouldn't have groaned at all if he knew someone else was around - he’d mostly just done it because it echoed how he was feeling at that moment, both physically and emotionally.

Rolling his eyes purely for show, he carefully makes his way over to the rink entrance, because yeah, while he might not be _injured_ , he’s certainly already sore as hell, and if he doesn’t take it easy, he’s only going to make it worse. He slides his skate guards on and takes a seat on the bench next to the pig, not really sure what to do now that he’s here; comforting people has certainly never been a forte of his.

Luckily for Yuri (or rather, unluckily, he thinks uncharitably) Katsudon decides to take matters into his own hands, and turns towards Yuri, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his shoulder. Yuri stiffens like a wooden board, so completely out of his element that it’s not even funny. Yuuri doesn’t even seem to notice, however, his arms tightening around Yuri to bring him closer into his embrace. Yuri brings an arm up and pats Katsudon twice on the back, then lets it fall back to his side, considering his job done. Katsudon chuckles into his shirt, clearly following Yuri’s train of thought as he pulls away, wiping his eyes a final time as he smiles at Yuri.

“What are you doing back here anyway?” Yuri demands, feeling an uncomfortable flush rising on his cheeks as looks anywhere in the rink but back at Katsuki.

“Oh, right,” Yuuri says, his voice still sounding a little thick with tears. “I actually came back to talk to you. This morning you looked like you’d been crying. Is everything… okay?” he asks hesitantly, as if afraid that Yuri’s going to explode at him.

And maybe normally, Yuri would, because it’s not any of that pig’s business who or what Yuri’s crying about, but after what just happened here in the last twenty minutes, he can’t bring himself to get upset. Katsuki is, actually and truthfully, just worried about him. And besides, part of the reason he was so geared up about confessing to Otabek was because of Katsudon, so he should definitely take part of the responsibility, Yuri decides.

“I found out last night that…” he starts, and embarrassingly, he can feel his eyes start to fill with tears already. There’s officially been too much crying in the last twenty four hours though, so he grits his teeth and powers on. “Otabek has a girlfriend. They’ve been dating for over a year and she’s flying to Almaty today to see him.”

“Oh, Yurio,” Katsuki gasps, placing a hand on Yuri’s arm that he no longer has the strength to shake off. “I’m so sorry, I never even imagined that he would…”

“It’s not your fault,” Yuri grumbles reluctantly, because in his mind, it kind of _is._  Well, to be fair, it’s not the pig’s fault that Yuri has a massive crush on Otabek, it’s the pig’s fault that Yuri thought he had a chance with Otabek. It’s also not Katsudon’s fault that Otabek’s already taken, so Yuri can give him that much, he supposes.

“I can still be sorry about it,” Yuuri responds, using his grip on Yuri’s arm to pull him back into a hug. “I also think it might be because of me that you were thinking of confessing to him, right?”

Yuri gives a halfhearted shrug, not even bothering to deny any of the potentially embarrassing assumptions Yuuri makes because his eyes are stinging again even though he’s so fucking done with crying over this. He sniffs, and Katsudon’s grip tightens, bringing him in close enough that Yuri can hide his face in his shoulder and pretend he’s not crying, so that’s exactly what he does. He doesn’t make any sound, except the occasional sniffle, and Katsudon also remains blissfully silent.

But then a clatter at the door announces yet another unwanted presence, and Yuri almost groans out loud when Viktor’s voice starts calling out for his fiance. Either way, with his close proximity, he knows that Katsudon feels him wince when Viktor spots them, his loud voice coming closer as he fails to take in the situation before him.

“Yuuri, there you are!” Viktor is saying. “Why didn’t you answer me? I thought something had happened--”

Viktor cuts himself off, apparently seeing now what’s going on, and Yuri can feel Katsudon making some kind of gesture behind his back at Viktor, but he doesn’t care enough to call him out on it. Viktor makes his way over to them, quiet now, and sits on the bench behind Yuri, just close enough that his arm is brushing against Yuri’s back, offering his silent support.

By the time he’s cried himself out again, he’s practically asleep against Katsudon’s shoulder, last night’s lack of sleep, a full day’s practice, and a good twenty four hours of being incredibly emotional have taken their toll on him. He hears Yuuri mutter something to Viktor, and suddenly he’s being manhandled onto Viktor’s back. He’s awake enough to grumble in Viktor’s ear as he carries him out of the rink and towards their car, and Viktor chuckles at his mindless mumbling. Viktor lays him down on the back seat, and Katsuki drops Yuri’s bag on the floor of the car, leaning over him to lay his hoodie on him like a blanket, and Yuri has a weird thought that the two of them will make good parents some day.

He can hear Viktor and Yuuri conversing quietly as they get in the car and start down the road, but he’s not paying too much attention; he knows they’re talking about him anyway. He sits up just enough to untie his skates and drop them in the general direction of his bag before he curls up on the backseat, clutching his hoodie tightly to himself. Later, he’ll have to swear the old man and the pig to silence about his breakdown, but for now, he’s content enough to just lay here, shutting out the outside world and letting someone else take care of his problems for the time being.

He drifts off in the back seat, decidedly Not Thinking About anything that might be going on outside the car he’s in right now. It’s really none of his business anyway, he thinks a little bitterly, and keeps his eyes tightly closed. The last thought that crosses his mind before he’s asleep is what he wouldn’t give to be in Otabek Altin’s girlfriend’s shoes right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you've made it this far, consider kudoing or commenting to let me know what you thought? :D  
> The second chapter should be up soon-ish; i've already started it at least, so there's that, haha


	2. rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter two, also day six of otayuri week!  
> i hope i've managed to keep the writing consistent, ahaha  
> chapter fics are more difficult than i anticipated...  
> anways, hope you enjoy!

It starts with a dream he has when he falls asleep in the back of Viktor’s car. At least, that’s what he blames it on later when he’s questioning his own sanity. He dreams that he’s standing in front of Otabek and his mysterious girlfriend, and when he demands that Otabek choose between the two of them, Otabek says, “How can I choose you when I’ve known her so much longer?”

So when Yuri wakes up, he almost feels like he’s in this strange rivalry with a girl he’s never even met before. He would also like to point out that in real life, he’d never make Otabek choose, especially when he’s not sure he would win such a thing, but all the same, he now feels an intense urge to show off his good points to Otabek.

He also wakes up after that strange dream in Viktor and Yuuri’s spare room, still in his workout clothes from yesterday, and his entire right side one massive purple bruise. His muscles ache every time he tries to move, but he needs to take a shower or else he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. The hot water makes him feel a little better, but it’s not until he stumbles out of the bathroom, his hair still wet and demanding painkillers from Katsudon, who’s making breakfast, that he finally breathes a sigh of relief.

“Sore from yesterday?” the pig asks sympathetically, and Yuri flinches when he remembers that Katsudon witnessed his spectacular fall.

“Not really,” he scowls, then yelps in pain when Viktor comes up behind him and firmly grabs his right arm.

“Children shouldn’t lie, especially to their parents,” Viktor croons into his ear, and Yuri hisses in rage, his arm now throbbing unpleasantly.

“Viktor,” Yuuri scolds, coming up to Yuri’s other side with an ice pack. Yuri takes it from him and holds it to his arm, glaring at Viktor who has moved away to hang off Yuuri like a limpet while he finishes cooking.

As they eat breakfast (Japanese style rice omelets that Katsudon draws smiles on with ketchup, making Viktor squeal in delight and Yuri delight in destroying the smiling face staring back at him from his plate) Yuri absently scrolls through his phone, flicking between different apps to catch up on what he missed from yesterday. He’s just opening instagram, and the very first post is from _otabek-altin_ and he can just see the tops of two people’s heads, and he knows he’s screwed, but he keeps scrolling.

Otabek isn’t smiling in the picture, which makes Yuri feel a bit triumphant, but then he sees the rest of the picture and his heart drops. The girl he’s with is gorgeous, with long dark hair that she’s wearing loose and a colorful sundress covered in flowers. Otabek’s arm is around her shoulders, and she’s smiling to the camera, and according to the caption, the picture was taken by Otabek’s little sister when they arrived at the family house yesterday.

_Well, at least they didn’t stay alone at his apartment_ , Yuri manages to think before he closes the app with shaking hands. That ridiculous dream comes back to the forefront of his mind, and after seeing a picture of his so-called competition, Yuri can’t help but feel like he’s already lost.

Though really, he _has_ already lost, simply by virtue of meeting Otabek second.

He doesn't talk for the rest of breakfast, not even to yell at the idiot couple for being so disgustingly mushy in front of him when he’s still nursing a broken heart, and Viktor and Yuuri exchange worried looks when being called ‘Yurio’ only causes him to look up with a tired glare.

He begs off going to practice today on virtue of being too sore, and allows Yuuri to photograph some of his bruises to bring to Yakov as proof, before he ushers the idiot couple out the door, giving him some much needed alone time to think now that he’s actually had some sleep.

It’s not like he hasn’t had crushes before. When he was very young and very very stupid, he’d even had a crush on Viktor. Of course, that had been before he’d gotten to know the man, when they’d only just become rink mates, because it certainly didn’t take long for Yuri to become disillusioned as he realized what a careless flake Viktor actually was.

Then again, Yuri is also pretty sure that the entire figure skating community has had a crush on Viktor at least once in their lives. Most of them grew out of it of course, unless you were Katsuki Yuuri, and that crush would follow you for the rest of your miserable life, until one day you wake up to find Viktor Nikiforov naked in your hot spring. That being said, Yuri can’t deny that Katsudon is the best thing that’s ever happened to Viktor. Yuri had always respected Viktor’s skating, but it was only recently that he’d begun to respect Viktor as a person, and anyone with eyes can see it’s because of Katsuki, though Yuri would only admit any of that on pain of death.

His point though, is that Otabek isn’t even his first crush, so he doesn’t understand why he can’t just get over it like he did when he realized Viktor’s true personality. Is it because there hasn’t been enough time? The wound is still fresh enough that he can’t think too hard about anything that might remind him of Otabek, or his chest starts to sting like he’s being stabbed. Or is it because Otabek is still the same, still the amazing person that Yuri knows he is, the only difference is that now he’s completely out of Yuri’s reach?

He doesn’t know, and thinking around in circles like this is just making him feel tired and sad. He collapses on the couch, and after a few seconds of silence as he stares at the ceiling, he hears the click of paws on hard wood, and Makkachin appears from the depths of the apartment, wagging his tail as he drops his head in Yuri’s lap, begging to be pet.

Yuri complies, rubbing his fingers through Makka’s silky fur, an involuntary smile making it’s way onto his face despite his melancholy mood.

“Must be nice to be a dog,” Yuri muses to him, and Makka’s ears perk up at being addressed, his tail wagging a little faster. “You never have to worry about things like stupid crushes and whether or not your stupid crush already has a girlfriend that he never told you about, even though you’ve known each other for three stupid months.”

He keeps his voice even, so not to frighten the dog, but the more he talks it out, the more annoyed Yuri finds himself getting. Seriously, they've known each other for three months now, and Otabek doesn't mention something as important as the girlfriend he’s been involved with since high school? Either she and Otabek don't have that great a relationship after all… or he and Otabek don't. He knows which he’d prefer, of course, but then feels a tiny bit bad for the girl whose name he still doesn't even know. He’s essentially wishing that her relationship wasn't going well so he could scoop up her boyfriend on the rebound.

Feeling mildly disgusted with himself now, he looks down at Makkachin, who looks back up at him with clear affection in his small dark eyes.

“Well, I was thinking of going for a run anyway,” he tells the dog. “Might as well have some company. Wanna go for a walk, Makka?”

Makkachin yips loudly, running over to the door and looking up at the keyring holder where his leash is hanging, then sits patiently on the floor, tail wagging as he looks over at Yuri. Yuri can’t help it; the stupid thing is so endearing he starts to laugh.

“Alright, you dumb mutt, let’s go,” he says, pushing himself up from the couch.

He takes a moment to duck into the spare room to throw on his sneakers and hoodie, and only hesitates for a second before grabbing his phone from where it’s still sitting on the bar where they ate breakfast. He may not want anything to do with anyone right now, especially a certain someone, but leaving the house alone without his phone is just stupid. He hooks Makkachin’s collar to the leash and pockets the spare apartment key left on the keyring holder just for such a situation, and steps out of door, locking it behind him.

They start off down the sidewalk at a fair clip, and Yuri is already feeling better with the fresh air and exercise, taking it just easy enough to not exacerbate his bruises and sore muscles. Makkachin trots at his side, tongue lolling out as he looks around at everything, and once again Yuri is struck by the simplicity of a dog’s life, and how they can take simple pleasures out of even the most mundane of things.

He’s in such a light mood by the time they pass the local park that he doesn’t even mind the swarm of children that run forward to pet the poodle. Yuri takes a seat on a bench and lets Makkachin sop up the attention until the dog gets bored, hopping up on the bench next to Yuri and looking at him with that contented look on his face that has Yuri suddenly getting a great idea for an instagram post.

He throws his arm around Makkachin’s shoulders, pulling the dog in close to his side. Makka allows himself to be manhandled by Yuri, still just sitting there with that blissed out face, his tongue hanging out and his eyes mostly closed, and Yuri smirks at the camera, leaning his head on top of Makkachin’s. He runs it through a few filters until he finds one he likes and posts it.

**yuri-plisetsky:** @v-nikiforov @katsukiyuuri hanging out with the only member of the Katsuki/Nikiforov household i can stand #makkachin #atthepark #newbff

He grins smugly at his phone as he watches the likes and comments pour in. He even laughs a bit when Katsudon likes his post and Viktor makes a long and whiny comment about why Yuuri shouldn’t reward their son for saying naughty things. Then one comment pops up that makes his throat constrict.

**otabek-altin:** replacing me already? It’s only been two days

And Yuri can practically see that stupid half smile, the very same one he spent ten seconds trying to burn into his retinas what was barely a week ago, because that’s Otabek’s stupid brand of humor right there that now makes Yuri want to laugh and cry at the same time. It’s honestly amazing how many emotions a stupid two sentence comment can give him, a measly eight words, and Yuri decides right then and there that he just can’t live like this any more.

**yuri-plisetsky:** yeah, you wish. you’re not getting rid of me that easily, altin

And Yuri finds that he means every word. Maybe he’s a homewrecker, maybe he’ll go to hell for this, but to be honest, he just doesn’t care any more. He wants to date Otabek, and the only way to make that happen is to get off his ass and start working for it. Otabek is going to fall madly in love with him, dump his girlfriend, and give Yuri his happily ever after. Enough is enough.

He springs up off the bench, mind set, and shoves his phone back in his pocket. Makkachin barks and jumps down to follow him, content to continue their run after the short break. Yuri turns them around, back towards the apartment. Now that he’s finally made up his mind, he’s got to decide on a course of action.

When they finally get back to the apartment - Yuri had not realized how far they had actually gone - the first thing Yuri does is refill Makkachin’s water dish. The second thing he does is sit on the couch with his phone, staring determinedly as he racks his brain for ideas. In the meantime though, he does get a response from Otabek to his comment from earlier.

**otabek-altin:** good to hear

And Yuri can’t help but wonder about that. He had assumed that Otabek had been joking in his earlier comment just from the tone of his words, but now he was second guessing himself. He thought about the last time they had spoken, actually talked to each other, on Skype the night before last (somehow it already feels like forever) and how Otabek had hung up on him and then the two days of radio silence between them that was actually pretty unusual. Yuri had been a bit preoccupied, and hadn’t really known what to say when he knew that Otabek would be with his girlfriend. But now that Yuri thought about it, he really did most of the reaching out between them, so maybe Otabek had been just as lost, uncertain of what to say when he didn’t have Yuri to play off of first.

What a pair they make, Yuri laughs inwardly, shaking his head. Two days without talking and they both assume that neither of them wants anything to do with the other any more. Luckily for Otabek though, Yuri was already planning ways to get his attention away from his girlfriend; turns out he might not need them as much as he had first assumed.

_hey_ , he sends, his hands shaking a little as he types. _how’s it going with the gf??_

For a brief, horrible minute, he is absolutely positive that Otabek isn’t going to text him back, despite the fact that he’s clearly on his phone if his instagram activity is anything to go by, and Yuri manages to convince himself that it’s all in his head and Otabek never wanted to talk to him in the first place when his phone buzzes and he’s left almost breathless with relief.

_Fine,_ he gets back. _She’s leaving tomorrow so, not much longer now._

_that’s a quick visit_ , he replies, raising his eyebrows even though Otabek can’t see him. _you almost sound happy that she’s leaving,_ he can’t resist adding, because the “not much longer now” Otabek had tagged onto his last statement sounds almost like a weight is being lifted from his shoulders or something.

_To be honest, I am_ , Otabek says. _This whole thing has been exhausting. Not to mention I’m missing three days of practice because of her_.

_three? i thought it was only supposed to be one?_ Yuri sends back because that’s what Otabek had originally told him over Skype.

_It was_. He can practically hear Beka’s surliness in the words. _Things got more hectic around here than I thought they would, so in the end it was just easier to take all three days._

_that sucks,_ he responds sympathetically. _i’m out today too if it makes you feel better_

_I did wonder about that when you posted that picture with Viktor’s dog_. _Any particular reason why?_ Otabek asks.

Instead of typing out a response, Yuri just sends a picture of the particularly vicious looking bruise that takes up almost the entire side of his right thigh. It’s only after he’s already pressed send that he realizes the picture itself is mildly questionable; he had pushed his leggings down to his knees and hiked up the side of his leopard print boxer briefs to get the entirety of the bruise in the frame of the picture, but there hadn’t been anything even remotely sexual about it at the time - Katsudon had taken it, for fuck’s sake. But now that he had sent the picture along to Otabek, he was acutely aware of exactly how little he was technically wearing in that picture.

On the other hand, it will probably get Otabek’s attention, he thinks a bit wryly, for one reason or another. Which is what he wanted, he can’t deny, so he decides not to send anything else, and just let Otabek take the picture as he will.

It takes Otabek longer to respond this time than he has been, and Yuri wonders briefly if maybe he had made a mistake by not attempting to explain the photo. Just when he’s about to cave and make a comment about his bruise while completely ignoring everything else about the photo that could be taken suggestively, his phone finally buzzes with Otabek’s response.

_Wow_ , is all it says, and Yuri stares. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Wow? Wow what? Wow, that bruise is ridiculous? Wow, you’re really fucking hot? Wow, I’ve never seen stupider looking underwear? What the actual hell, Altin? The one-word response leaves Yuri floundering because it could literally mean so many things that he has no idea which one it _does_ mean. Just when Yuri’s about to send back a series of question marks, because he is totally not mentally prepared for a guessing game of this magnitude, Otabek sends him another message.

_That bruise is really bad. How did that happen?_

And though Yuri is saved from one dilemma, he finds himself at yet another crossroads. He could tell the truth, which would go something like this:  _i imagined you and your girlfriend having sex while attempting a triple and hit the ice so hard Katsudon thought i died_. Or he could lie out his ass because there is no way in hell he is admitting that out loud to anyone, ever.

_i fucked up a jump_ is all he decides to say instead. _lost concentration and hit the ice hard_

_Sounds brutal_ , Otabek says. _I’m glad you’re alright otherwise._

Yuri smiles, touched by Otabek’s concern, but he sends another message before Yuri can say anything about it.

_Anyway, Aigerim just got back so I have to go_.

_Aigerim??_ Yuri questions, his heart picking up speed as he waits for the response.

_My girlfriend_ , he says shortly. _I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay Yuri? There’s something I want to talk to you about._

Yuri wants to protest, ask Otabek to just tell him now, anything that will keep Otabek talking to him and not going back to his girlfriend, but he can tell from the finality of Otabek’s words that now isn’t the time to push. So he bids Otabek goodbye and drops his phone on the coffee table, running his fingers through his hair with a sigh. He isn’t sure if he achieved his goal at all, but at least he feels better after having a normal conversation with Otabek. If nothing else, they’re still friends, and that’s a comfort in and of itself.

Another part of him is _insanely_ curious though; what could Otabek have to tell him that was so important he felt the need to tell Yuri he had something to tell him? (Yuri shakes his head a little at the circularity of that statement, but knows it applies all the same). And if it was so important, why couldn’t he just tell Yuri now? Why does he have to wait until tomorrow?

The thought stays with him for the rest of the day, and it isn’t until Viktor and Yuuri get home that he realizes he’s been stewing over those same questions for hours.

“Yurio, Makkachin! We’re home!” Viktor shouts the minute the door jiggles open. Makkachin jumps up from where he had been lying at Yuri’s feet to greet his owners, and Viktor immediately bends over to pet him, trapping Yuuri in the hall behind him with two hands full of grocery bags and no way to get around the man and dog obstacle now in his way.

“Did you have a good day out with your brother today Makkachin?” Viktor is cooing at his dog, and Makka barks in answer, his tail wagging furiously.

Yuri’s head snaps up from where he had been pretending to be busy with his phone the second he heard the door handle turn.

“What the hell did you just call me old man?!” Yuri grits out, because if there is absolutely one thing he doesn't need, it's yet another weird moniker gifted to him by the Katsuki/Nikiforov household. Then he spots Katsudon, still standing behind Viktor and giving the back of his head the flattest look Yuri’s ever seen, and he can't hold back the snort that ends up escaping him.

Yuuri turns to him at the sound, making eye contact before he rolls his eyes in the biggest, most exaggerated way possible, before he goes back to staring at Viktor with tired eyes. Viktor notices Yuri looking past him first, and when he looks behind himself with confusion, and sees Yuuri there with all the grocery bags and a completely put-upon grimace on his face, he jumps up sheepishly, taking the bags from the pig and ushering him into the house.

“Oh goodness, Yuuri, I’m so sorry!” Viktor says, following his fiance into the kitchen to put away their groceries, Makkachin dancing at their heels. “I completely didn’t even realize! Yuuri, don’t be angry, talk to me~!”

Yuri hops off the couch and follows the idiot couple into the kitchen, snickering. Sometimes Viktor still acts like the incredible flake that Yuri knows he is, and getting to witness those moments is a treasure. Katsudon is putting the groceries away, moving around the kitchen and Viktor, who is fluttering around Yuuri still apologizing, with a quiet efficiency that speaks of months of experience. Yuri doesn’t pay attention to them when they’re in the kitchen, or together in general because the chance that he’s going to see them doing something mushy and disgusting is just that much higher, but there’s almost a natural smoothness to their movements that’s kind of mesmerizing to watch, and Yuri vows to watch them in the kitchen more often, if only after Viktor knows he fucked up and is trying to apologize.

The pig turns and catches him watching, throwing him a wink as he expertly sidesteps Viktor and his attempts to pull him into a hug. Yuri… is actually kind of impressed, despite himself, because Katsudon can play the old man like a drum. When they finish with the groceries, Katsuki finally relents in his game and allows Viktor to wrap his arms around his shoulders, and Yuri looks away in distaste as Viktor begins nuzzling their noses together.

“So anyway, Yurio,” Viktor suddenly turns to Yuri, placing his palms on the countertop and acting as though they had been deep in conversation this whole while. Yuri looks between him and Katsudon with his eyebrows raised skeptically, but the pig just shakes his head in exasperated fondness at Viktor’s antics and turns to start dinner.

“Yuuri and I think we’ve discovered a solution to your problem!” Viktor announces, and Yuri can’t help the sinking feeling that’s making itself known deep in his gut.

“What problem?” he asks warily, because before they can even get to addressing all the issues in the rest of that statement, Yuri needs to know what they think they’re “solving” in the first place.

“Your _love problems_ of course!” Viktor laughs as if Yuri is being terribly silly for asking.

Yuri gives him the meanest glare he can muster, which he knows from practicing in the mirror is actually rather menacing, if he does say so himself, and says flatly, “No fucking way, you shitty dinosaur.”

“But Yurioooo,” Viktor whines, drawing out the last syllable of the nickname in such an obnoxious way that Yuri’s skin crawls. “Yuuri and I spent a lot of time on this! Won't you at least listen to what we’ve come up with?”

Yuri is about to tell Viktor that he would sooner die alone than let a fossil and a glutton try to solve his love problems for him, but then he remembers last night, and the way the two of them took care of him when he was at his most vulnerable in a way that certainly went above and beyond the just-simple-annoying-rinkmates Yuri insists is their relationship, and he begrudgingly admits to himself that he _does_ owe them for that.

“Fine,” he huffs out before he thinks too hard about his decision. “Just make it quick, I don't have all night.”

“Great!” Viktor beams at him, and Yuri suppresses the strong urge to roll his eyes. “So we were talking, and we’re almost positive Otabek already has feelings for you, Yurio,” Viktor pauses dramatically, and here, Yuri really does roll his eyes, because he’s already talked to Katsudon about this and it was in fact, part of the problem, _not_ the solution. “But obviously, we don’t know enough about the situation with his girlfriend to really tell if he also has feelings for her, so! All you have to do is make him realize that you’re the better choice! Show off all your good points to him, Yuri! Make him see that you’re better than she is! Essentially, you’ve got to seduce him!” Viktor finishes grandly, and Yuri chokes on his own saliva.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” he demands when his breathing is under control again. He can already feel the flush on his cheeks deepening in color as the rage inside him grows. “I’m not going to seduce him away from his girlfriend, you creep!”

Nevermind that Yuri had essentially thought the exact same thing earlier, just in different, less creepy words. It had seemed a lot less malicious and weird when Yuri had thought about it, and now that he knows that _Viktor_ thinks it’s a good idea, there’s no way in hell Yuri wants anything to do with it. He’ll figure something else out. He has to.

“Not seduce in the sexual way,” Viktor says, waving his hand as though to knock Yuri’s protests right out of the air. “I think you’re still a bit too young for that. But just… seduce his attention! Make him think only of you! That kind of thing, you know?” when he smiles, it’s all hearts, and Yuri knows that he thinks he’s come up with the perfect solution.

Yuri sighs, because he knows they’re just trying to help, but…

“Thanks but no thanks,” he says firmly, but he’s no longer yelling. “I’ll figure something out. And if not, well… maybe we’re just not meant to be,” he shrugs, trying to seem casual, but the thought honestly hurts and he knows it shows on his face because Viktor and Yuuri exchange worried glances.

“Well, if you’re sure, Yuri,” Katsudon, who had been letting Viktor do the talking until now, walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll support you, no matter what you decide.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he says quietly, trying to smile, but he knows it doesn’t come out quite right.

Katsuki squeezes his shoulder briefly, then goes back to preparing dinner, and Viktor takes his cue to change the subject, talking now about all the apparent shenanigans Yuri had missed at practice that day.

And Yuri lets the familiar sound of Viktor’s chatter wash over him, taking comfort in the normalcy of this scene, because he remembers Otabek’s words ( _there’s something I want to talk to you about_ ) and he has a feeling that tomorrow, everything is going to change whether he wants it to or not.

And as he goes to bed that night, stomach full of ramen and butterflies, he can only hope that it’s for the better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i hope y'all enjoyed!  
> if you've made it this far, consider leaving a kudo if you haven't yet, or a comment if you have!  
> let me know what you think! :D


	3. fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here it is; the final chapter!  
> it's also very loosely day seven of otayuri week, ahaha  
> this thing put up such a fight, i s2g  
> anyways, please enjoy! :D

The day dawns rainy and cold, and the absolute last thing Yuri wants to do is get out of his bed and go to the rink. He had stayed again at Viktor and Yuuri’s the night before, which means that the rink isn’t quite as far away as it normally is from his place, and he won’t even have to walk since Viktor has a car, but he’s still not thrilled with the way the morning is panning out.

He’s even less thrilled when he enters the kitchen for breakfast and is forcefully reminded that it’s Viktor’s turn to cook today. He shares a less than enthusiastic look with Katsudon as he sits down next to him at the breakfast bar; Viktor always makes the same exact thing for breakfast when they have to head to the rink in the morning, and neither Yuri nor Katsuki are huge fans of Viktor’s cold kolbasa sandwiches.

After choking down two sandwiches each (Viktor, at least, eats with gusto, while Yuri and Yuuri makes faces of suffering at each other while Viktor isn't looking), they all pile into the car for the seven minute drive to the rink, and Yuri sullenly rests his head against the window of the back seat, headphones in and hood drawn up to reflect his wishes to be left alone, mood sinking further into the ground for no discernible reason.

Well. There is _one_ reason, Yuri can at least admit in the privacy of his own head.

Last night he had been anxious, thinking of today and Otabek’s request to speak with him with the sort of terror filled apprehension that fills most people when they hear similar words. As night turned to gloomy morning, his restlessness had eased into a sort of resigned acceptance, and after breakfast (and Viktor’s shitty sandwiches) it had mellowed him greatly into thoughtful sadness.

Otabek is his best friend, and he’s pretty convinced now that nothing would change that fact between them, but having to leave behind his feelings of-of _love_ for Otabek… it's going to change him, destroy a piece of him that he won't ever be able to get back. But at same time, he knows he won't be able to live with an unrequited love, either; he found out three days ago that his crush had a girlfriend, and since then, his life has been hell. There’s no way he’d be able to survive for months or years knowing that Otabek is just beyond his reach.

When they pull up to the rink, Yuri steps out of the car without a word and heads into the building. If today is going to be the worst day of his life, he just wants to fucking get it over with, thank you very much. Yakov spots him the second he walks in, and demands to see his bruises; no skater of _his_ is going out on the ice in anything less than perfect condition. Yuri obligingly pulls up his shirt and lets Yakov palpate his skin as he sees fit - he’s still a bit sore, but nothing compared to yesterday.

Grudgingly, Yakov gives his approval just as Katsudon and Viktor walk in, and Yuri begins stretching, feeling the pleasant pull in his muscles after a day off.

“Just take it easy out there, Yurotchka,” Yakov says gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don't want to see anything over a double, you hear?”

“Whatever,” Yuri groans, rolling his eyes. Granted, it was jumping while he was distracted that had caused his injury in the first place, but he’s being babied again and it pisses him off.

Morning practice goes about as well as can be expected with Yuri’s dampened mood and physical restrictions. He tries to skate through his free skate program, but without being able to practice the whole thing, jumps and all, it seems a little pointless. But Yakov demands he keep at it every time he stops to complain about the lack of difficulty or the futility of practicing something incorrectly, so by the time they break for lunch, he’s pretty well and truly distracted from the issue of his impending doom. The second he picks up his phone however, everything hits him again full force when he sees he has a text from Otabek. It’s short and straight to the point, but it still manages to get Yuri’s heart pumping as hard as if he'd just done a run through of Allegro Appasionato.

**Beka:** Text me when you get out of practice?

**Me:** sure

There’s only a few hours left of practice after lunch, when Lilia comes in and works him to the bone, and Yuri can’t remember any of them. She’s not distinctly frowning at him when he leaves though, so he figures he must’ve done passably at least. He texts Otabek again right before he gets in the shower, and as he stands under the hot spray of water, he feels strangely completely at ease. It’s not that same resignation he felt earlier, and he’d long since worked off his depression thanks to Yakov and Lilia, but he can’t help but wonder if this is the calm before the storm. Either way, he decides to embrace the feeling when he gets out of the shower and sees that Otabek has read his text, but chosen not to respond.

_Well, fine_ , he thinks to himself sarcastically. _You ask me to text you then ignore me when I do. Asshole_.

He tosses his phone into his bag so he has an excuse not to look at it every thirty seconds to see if Otabek has texted him back, and slams the door of the changing room behind him when he leaves, feeling marginally better at the violent and loud action. As he approaches the doors to the rink, he notices that the weather is still overcast and unpleasant, though the rain has stopped, so at least he’ll be able to walk home without getting soaked.

There’s someone standing right outside the doors, back facing Yuri as they look out towards the parking lot, and though Yuri thinks they look slightly familiar, he doesn’t think much more of it than that, since anyone that’s hanging around outside the rink he’s probably shared the ice with at one time or another. He certainly doesn’t feel like socializing with some half-wit shit tier ice skater that pays Yakov just enough to not kick them off the ice, so he deliberately stares as hard at his shoes as he possibly can as he walks by, because of course they have to be standing in just such a way that he has to walk past them to start on his way home. His fingers twitch towards his pocket to make himself even more unavailable to small talk by busying himself with his phone, but he remembers with annoyance that his phone is currently in his bag, and out of immediate reach. At least he’d thought to pull his hood up before he left the changing room, so the chance of eye contact with the stranger is virtually impossible.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and stomps down the sidewalk, and when he makes it five feet without interruption, his shoulders lose some of their tenseness. At least, until he hears a voice, _the stranger’s voice_ , calling his name. He can feel the stiffness returning to his body as he stops short, not because the stranger called him out, but because that is _definitely not_ the voice of a stranger. He turns slowly back towards the rink doors, and sure enough, standing there in his leather jacket and sunglasses, looking calm and composed as always, is Otabek Altin.

Yuri opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Otabek steps away from the doors, slipping off his sunglasses and storing them in the pocket of his jacket, moving just a bit closer to Yuri, and _smiles at him_ and suddenly Yuri’s heart is threatening to beat out of his chest.

“Hey,” Otabek says, and he’s _still fucking smiling_ , though that could just be because Yuri’s been staring at him with his mouth open stupidly for quite a few minutes now.

Yuri shuts his mouth with a click, swallows heavily because his throat is suddenly incredibly dry, and manages to say, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Yuri is so fucking smooth. Luckily, Otabek just snorts at the crass wording to the question, no doubt used to Yuri’s certain brand of subtle delicacy by now, and replies, “I said I wanted to talk to you today, didn’t I?”

Yuri blinks, startled and slightly annoyed at the candid response.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting you to come all the way to Russia to do it,” he snaps back. Yuri will not be made to look like the idiot here when Otabek’s the one who showed up completely out of the blue. “I figured Skype would work just as fine as it always has.”

Otabek just looks at him for a moment, long enough that Yuri’s temper begins to flare, before he says, “There are some things that should only be talked about in person.”

And then Yuri feels like a dick for getting angry at Otabek; it’s not his fault Yuri’s not emotionally mature enough to handle his feelings without flying off the handle like a kid having a tantrum. He swipes a hand through his hair in frustration, knocking his hood off in the process, and his damp hair takes the chance to escape from its loose confines, sliding down his shoulder and into his face in a way that just proceeds to irritate Yuri further. Otabek makes an indecipherable sound from in front of him, and Yuri’s vision clears seconds later when Otabek swipes his hair from his face and tucks it neatly behind his ear for him. Yuri can feel his face heating up as Otabek’s hand falls slowly back to his side.

“Um. Thanks,” Yuri mumbles at the ground. There’s no way in hell he’ll be able to look Otabek in the face without his own resembling a tomato (though he’s pretty sure he’s most of the way there already) so he continues talking to his feet. “You wanna… head back to mine, then?”

“Sure,” Otabek responds gracefully, and Yuri lets out an inaudible breath of relief as they begin walking back down the sidewalk. “You live on your own again, right?”

Yuri can hear the curious undertone in his friend’s voice, and finally feels the color begin to recede from his cheeks, his attention turning to other things.

“I moved back into my old place two weeks after the Grand Prix,” Yuri agrees, thinking of the constant state of awkward tension living with Yakov and Lilia had been when they weren’t both jumping down his throat about training. “They agreed to it as long as they still have complete control of my training schedule.”

Otabek hums at the answer, and Yuri takes a second to glance over at him, taking in once again the fact that he’s actually here. And then something catches his eye. Or rather, a lack of something.

“How long are you staying?” Yuri asks him curiously, because Otabek has a distinct lack of luggage for someone who just took a five hour plane flight to another country. “You don’t have any bags,” he adds defensively when Otabek looks at him.

“Ah, I’ve got four days,” Otabek says with a shrug. “After I took off the last three, my coach decided to take a few days off to visit family, so I’ve got some time.”

Yuri can feel himself tense at the reminder of Otabek’s unexpected vacation, but hopes it isn’t too noticeable. He fights to keep his shoulders loose and his walk fluid as he wonders, “Where are you staying then?”

And here, Otabek looks a little bit sheepish, raising a hand to rub at the fine hair at the back of his head, almost seeming like he’s not going to answer until he lets out a deep sigh.

“Katsuki and Viktor offered me their spare room,” he murmurs, glancing at Yuri out of the corner of his eyes and wincing when he catches sight of the look on his face.

“You told _Katsudon and Viktor_ you were coming but not _me_?” he all but yelps, turning to look at Otabek with an expression that can only be called utter betrayal mixed with righteous anger. Otabek bites his lip, creating the impression that he’s desperately trying to hold back laughter when he sees Yuri’s face.

“Not purposefully,” he amends, clearing his throat. Yuri can feel the suspicion on his face as he gazes at the other though, and Otabek hastens to explain. “Katsuki actually contacted me first, and when I mentioned I was already planning to head over here, he offered to let me stay with them.”

Yuri’s heart stops for what has to be at least thirty seconds when the phrase _Katsuki contacted me_ finally resonates through his brain with all the possible meanings something like that could entail. He swallows, almost afraid to ask, but he knows he needs to get this over with. _Like ripping off a bandaid or something. Right_.

“What in the world could that pig possibly need to talk to you about?” he tries to sound both as condescending as possible and disinterested in the actual answer to the question, but he knows he fails on both aspects when Otabek raises his eyebrows at him.

“It was about you, actually,” Otabek tells him, and Yuri’s throat reflexively swallows before he can choke on his own spit. “He said that you’ve been pretty down lately. I can kind of see what he means,” and he looks pointedly at the unusual paleness of Yuri’s skin, the dark bags under his eyes, making Yuri feel even more self conscious in front Otabek than he usually is. That is to say, he generally _isn’t_ , unless he feels he has a need to be, like when someone points out the fact that he looks like shit. _Jerk_.

Yuri waves away Otabek’s probing stare, trying to ask what’s wrong without saying the words, but this is one topic that Yuri’s one hundred percent _not_ going to discuss with his best friend. His best friend that has a girlfriend. A girlfriend that Yuri is trying incredibly hard _not_ to think about. In fact, Yuri is trying so hard to _not think_ that he almost walks them right by his apartment building, and has to double back before they miss it completely.

The brick building doesn’t stand out from the rest in the neighborhood in any way in particular, though it is definitely older than most of them. Otabek kindly doesn’t mention the fact that Yuri almost walked by his own home as they’re trekking up to the third floor where Yuri lives, but there’s a little smirk just visible enough on his face that Yuri knows is because of his almost blunder.

“Well, make yourself at home,” Yuri mumbles as he unlocks his door and pushes it open, allowing Otabek to enter before him. He hadn’t been expecting company, so it’s a little messy; he’s got a couple random articles of clothing thrown over the back of his couch and there are a few dishes on the coffee table from the last time he had actually eaten in his own home, three days ago. _Gross_.

“It’s not as bad as I was expecting,” Otabek looks over his shoulder at Yuri from where he’s examining the living room, taking in the pictures on his walls and his tiger striped rug, and of course, his mess.

“Lilia was crazy intense about keeping things clean,” Yuri admits, grabbing the dishes so he can at least deposit them in the sink for later cleaning. “I got used to cleaning up after myself out of sheer self-preservation.”

Otabek lets out a huff of laughter as he follows Yuri into the kitchen. Yuri’s cat meows at them from the floor by her food dish as they enter, and Yuri takes a moment to coo at her and refill her dish before he sets up the kettle for tea. He wasn’t really much of a fan before he moved in with Lilia, but since it’s one of the few beverages she keeps obsessively stocked besides water, he learned to like it and it became a habit to have it ever since.

Otabek takes a seat at his tiny kitchen table; the thing is just barely big enough to seat three, since the most people he’s ever going to have in his apartment at once is precisely two - Viktor and Katsudon. Yuri places a cup with hot water and his container of tea bags in front of Otabek, having already selected one for himself. Lilia’s collection of teas is much fancier and more refined than his, hand blended loose leaf selections she purchases by the ounce, instead of Yuri’s box of mixed fruit teas from his local grocery store, but they serve their purpose well enough.

They let their tea steep in relative silence, listening to Yuri’s cat make a general nuisance of herself in the other room as she scratches deep claw marks into his beat up sofa. It's an ugly old thing that's seen much better days, probably before Yuri was even born, but it's comfy as hell and had been one of the things Yuri’s grandpa had gifted him with when he first moved out to St Petersburg, its original place of honor having been in Nikolai’s living room. As they start to prepare their tea, Yuri’s torn between yelling at his cat to knock it off (she definitely knows better; this is revenge for not being home for more than five minutes in three days) and not being the one to break the silence first, since making noise means talking, and talking means, well. Yuri’s just not prepared yet.

Which is fucking stupid, because Yuri’s not a goddamn coward, so he opens his stupid rebellious mouth and says, “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

He makes a point of looking straight into Otabek’s eyes when he asks, because he’s _not_ going to run from this. Otabek seems a little surprised by his straightforward bluntness, which _hello_ , it’s _Yuri_ they’re talking about, but he gets over it quickly, looking down at his hands as he swirls his partially empty tea cup around in them, very noticeably the one avoiding looking into eyes this time.

Otabek takes a swig of his tea, then replies, “I thought maybe I could tell you about Aigerim. If you wanted to listen.”

Yuri mouth goes instantly dry, never mind the fact that he has a hot beverage right in front of him, and he can literally feel his heart rate picking up. Otabek flew all the way to St Petersburg to see Yuri, in person, to tell him about his fucking girlfriend? What the actual fuck?

It takes a few minutes for Yuri to come up with something to say in response to Otabek’s plea that isn't riddled with swears and shouted at the top of his lungs, so he feels incredibly proud of himself when instead he curtly says, “If you must,” and takes a completely calculated sip of his tea, never mind the fact that his knuckles have turned white he’s gripping the handle of his cup so hard. There’s a small voice in the back of his head that is distinctly displeased with the completely bitchy way he responds instead, because Otabek’s certainly done nothing to deserve it, but Yuri shrugs off the guilt by telling himself his initial reaction of screaming the most insulting words he can think of (and trust him, there are _a lot_ ) would’ve been even less deserved.

Otabek’s fingers twitch in response to Yuri’s less than lukewarm approval, causing tea to go splashing over the rim of the cup and onto Yuri’s table, and Otabek puts the cup down as quickly and carefully as he’s able, apologizing quietly and sincerely, like he’s a doctor that’s just told Yuri he was diagnosed with a life threatening disease.

Yuri just snorts, standing up from his seat to grab some paper towels from the counter, mopping up the spill before it can spread to the floor.

“Beka, don’t worry about it,” he tells him, and he can feel the corners of his mouth move up into a smile despite himself. “Seriously. This table has seen far worse spills than tea in its lifetime, I can guarantee you that.”

Otabek smiles back at him, and just like that, the quiet tension that had settled over them lifts, leaving the room feeling so much lighter than before. Yuri throws himself back in his chair, ignoring its ominous creaking at his rough treatment.

“Go on then, loverboy,” he says, flicking his wrist imperiously at Otabek. “Tell me all about your girlfriend.”

Otabek’s smile slides off his face just as surely as if it had never been, and Yuri silently mourns its loss. He hesitates for a moment, and Yuri lets him, not exactly thrilled with the topic of the conversation himself (the things he’ll do for love, honestly!), before Otabek runs his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh.

“Okay,” he mumbles, seemingly to psych himself up before he turns to Yuri and begins his tale. “So, Aigerim and I, we were pretty close as kids. We first got into figure skating together, but as we got older, her parents wanted her to focus more on her studies, and withdrew her from lessons.”

And in spite of himself, Yuri can feel his heart going out to the girl a bit, because he certainly can't imagine having a parental figure in his life that wouldn't want him to do what he enjoyed doing, especially if that something was ice skating. His grandpa had always supported his ambitions one hundred percent, even back when he was a tiny slip of a kid that could barely move two feet on the ice without falling on either his ass or his face.

“We lived near each other though, so we stayed friends even though I didn't see her as much as I used to after that. Her parents were always pretty strict on her, so when we got into high school, she was more excited than anyone, because she felt she’d finally have some more freedom to do what she wanted.

“Then, she developed a crush,” and here, Otabek’s face starts to look a little pained. “Apparently, she was talking to one of her other friends about it, and her parents overheard. The guy she liked… she knew her parents would never approve, so when they asked her who it was, she said it was me, because they knew me, and her father didn't outright hate me. At that point, I had even started to become pretty well known in the skating community, had won a few medals, so there wouldn't be anything to disapprove of.

“But as the months went by, and she never made any kind of move to date me, her father began to suspect she might’ve been lying, and started talking about setting her up with one of his business associates’ sons. He wouldn't break us up if he knew we were actually together because he knew I could eventually provide for her, but otherwise there weren't too many people her age he was willing to let her date.”

Otabek pauses in his story to take another sip of tea, though it must be room temperature at best by now. Yuri’s never heard him speak so much at one time before, and wonders absently if his throat is hurting as he tries to digest everything Otabek is telling him. As he tries not to wonder if the picture he’s painting, the slight hope Yuri’s beginning to feel… is real.

“So one night, she came to my house, crying her eyes out, saying that she wasn't sure how, but her dad had found out that she had lied to him and was going to set her up with someone she didn't know if she couldn't prove to him that we were dating. So after that, it’s pretty much exactly what you're thinking,” Otabek smirks wryly. “I agreed to go out with her because I didn't have anyone I was seeing at the time, and it wasn't like I hated spending time with her. I told the press that I had a girlfriend back home if they asked, in case her father caught word of it, but other than that, we just hung out as normal whenever we were together. We let everyone believe we were dating until two days ago.”

“Why two days ago?” Yuri asks quietly, and his voice is most certainly _not_ shaking, thank you very much.

Otabek smiles at him from across the table, reaching a hand out to gently grab Yuri’s away from where it's been loosely clenched around his empty teacup as he listened to Otabek talk. He rubs a thumb across the back of Yuri’s hand, and his flesh feels like it's on fire in the wake of Otabek’s touch. Yuri can feel the color rising in his face, but doesn't pull away.

“Because as it turns out, both Aigerim and I have people in our lives now that we would like to be with. We couldn't keep up the charade for her family any longer if we’re both actively dating other people. And Yuri,” Otabek pauses again, looking down at their clasped hands as though it's a point of strength he’s actively drawing from. “I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you from the beginning that there was nothing between Aigerim and I. After Katsuki contacted me about how depressed you’ve been, I knew it was my fault. But I didn't want to drag you into my mess, so I waited until we sorted it out.”

Yuri’s face, having lost some of its red hue while Otabek was talking so casually, as if holding hands is completely normal for them, immediately darkens to a fetching scarlet as he stutters, “What are you - I never said… I don't...!”

Otabek laughs lightly at Yuri’s floundering, pointedly looking down at their joined hands with a raised brow and slightly pink cheeks before he says, “Yuri, you're not exactly subtle. I've known for a while now that you like me.”

Yuri’s heart feels like it's about to explode. It's pumping so fast now that it surely can’t be healthy, and Otabek isn't making it any better, looking at him from across the table with a look on his face that’s just so incredibly _fond_ Yuri feels like he’s about to die, and he just can't hold it in anymore.

“What the _fuck_!” he shouts with righteous indignation burning through him, especially when Otabek nearly collapses against his table, shaking with muffled laughter, completely at Yuri’s expense, he’s sure. He slumps back in his chair and tries to indignantly cross his arms over his chest, but realizes that would entail letting Otabek’s hand go, so he reluctantly settles for staring sullenly at the top of Otabek’s head.

When he finally straightens, Otabek is wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, but seems to have gotten himself together enough to squeeze Yuri’s hand tenderly and say with a smile, “Yuri Plisetsky, I like you. Will you go out with me?”

Yuri’s heart doesn't explode, unlike previous expectations, but it _does_ nearly beat itself right out of his chest. His answer would be the same regardless of if he were dead or not though, and he can feel his lips slip up into the bright grin he normally saves only for his grandpa.

“Yeah, I guess I will,” he answers, his grin becoming a bit smirk-like as he can’t resist adding, “Since you went to so much trouble to break up with your girlfriend for me, and all.”

Otabek lifts the hand he’s still holding to his mouth and places a soft kiss to the back of it, looking Yuri in the eyes as he does.

“It was my pleasure,” he says lowly, his lips moving against Yuri’s skin in a way that will haunt Yuri’s teenage dreams for months.

And Yuri knows he’s blushing again, but that certainly doesn't stop him from kicking Otabek under the table and as he mutters, “Ass.”

And then they’re grinning at each other again, the high of their brand new relationship not even close to wearing off, and though it's probably partially endorphins and adrenaline or whatever, Yuri knows as he looks into Otabek’s eyes that he hasn't been this happy since he won his gold medal at the Grand Prix Final months ago.

It's an intensely liberating feeling, honestly, to know that another person can make him feel this way. He thinks that he may finally understand why Viktor and Katsudon can never keep their hands off each other, if it’s really possible for a single person to make him feel this elated.

That’s a thought he’ll take to his grave, though.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


And five years later, there’s still nothing that can make him quite as happy as Otabek does. There are a few things that come close, of course; winning a gold medal, as always, is right up there, along with watching Otabek win gold if he can't get there himself; Viktor and Yuuri’s baby girl, a fairly recent addition, but nonetheless just as important; the new kitten Otabek had bought him for their five year anniversary just a few weeks ago, though he supposes that could also directly translate back into Otabek in general making him happy, since he was the one that bought Yuri the kitten.

He’s distracted from his thoughts when his boyfriend comes up behind him, placing a kiss on his cheek and a piece of thick, fancy card stock on the table in front of him.

“What’s this?” he asks, turning to get a proper kiss from Otabek instead of just reading the card himself.

Otabek makes a sound of amusement against Yuri’s lips, and when he pulls away says, “You’d know if you read it.”

“I’d also know if you told me,” Yuri responds, raising an eyebrow, but Otabek just taps the card in front of him as he moves away.

“It’ll be good practice for you,” he tells Yuri as he pulls a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “These things always use the most formal language.”

Intrigued now, Yuri looks back down at the card and sees that it's written in Kazakh. It looks so similar to Cyrillic at first glance that Yuri hadn't even noticed. Otabek has been teaching him his native language since they started dating, and though he’s basically fluent at speaking it by now, sometimes the written words can give him a little trouble. His eyes flick back and forth across the paper as he reads, then widen as he realizes exactly what it is he’s looking at.

“Is this a wedding invitation?” he questions incredulously. “To your ex-girlfriend’s wedding?”

Otabek rolls his eyes at the comment, but chooses not to acknowledge it otherwise.

“Yes,” he says instead. “Aigerim’s getting married in five months and we’ve been invited.”

“Awesome,” Yuri looks at the paper in his hand with renewed interest. “That’s just before the off season ends, isn't it? Let's go!”

Otabek smiles at Yuri’s enthusiasm before he moves to the calendar, marking the date as Yuri starts excitedly talking about checking flights and booking tickets.

And five months later, their taxi pulls up outside the hotel in Astana they’re going to be staying at, and as they enter the lobby, a girl Yuri barely remembers from a picture he saw over five years ago rushes towards them, looking between the two of them like an excited child before she pulls Otabek into a tight hug.

“Otabek, thank you so much for coming!” she says when they pull apart. Then she turns to Yuri, and though he wouldn't have thought it possible, her smile only grows. “And you must be Yuri. I'm Aigerim. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she informs him, extending a hand for him to shake.

“Likewise,” he says with a smile as he takes her hand.

When he lets go, he settles back against Otabek, who wraps an arm around Yuri’s waist in a move that’s so long practiced for both of them that they don't even really notice they’ve done it until Aigerim looks at them and laughs, a fond smile on her face.

“What?” Otabek questions her, subconsciously tightening his hold around Yuri.

Aigerim shakes her head, still smiling.

“No, it’s just… I've never seen you look so comfortable with someone before, Otabek. I was just thinking that you and Yuri must really be soulmates or something.”

Otabek looks at Yuri, who’s already looking back at him with a smile.

“Soulmates?” Yuri says quietly as he stares into Otabek’s eyes. There’s a pause and his smile grows, lighting his eyes up in a way that never fails to make Otabek short of breath even after all these years.

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that's it for this little story! hope y'all enjoyed! :'D  
> thanks so much to everyone that left me comments and kudos, you guys mean the world to me!  
> without you guys i probably would've given up on this chapter seriously  
> it damn near kicked my ass -___-  
> i will never again underestimate people that regularly write chapter fics: these people are gladiators  
> anyway, if you enjoyed this silly little story and would like to let me know, please don't be shy to leave a comment or a kudo!  
> :D


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